Emily Dickinson

I Have A King, Who Does Not Speak

poem 103

I have a King, who does not speak So wondering thro’ the hours meek I trudge the day away Half glad when it is night, and sleep, If, haply, thro’ a dream, to peep In parlors, shut by day. And if I do when morning comes It is as if a hundred drums Did round my pillow roll, And shouts fill all my Childish sky, And Bells keep saying Victory From steeples in my soul! And if I don’t the little Bird Within the Orchard, is not heard, And I omit to pray Father, thy will be done today For my will goes the other way, And it were perjury!

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